Feet Off
by Ava Miranda Dakedavra
Summary: Ever since his legs have been long enough, Fred has been putting his feet on different pieces of furniture. Him picking them up for only Hermione Granger doesn't mean anything...right?
1. The Table

Ever since their legs had been long enough, Fred and George had set their feet up on anything, anywhere, at any time. The kitchen table, the coffee table, their beds. They didn't do it to be comfortable; it was more to piss off their family than anything.

"Fred, George," Molly said sternly, glaring at the eleven year old boys, "Feet off the table."

"Feet off the table!" they crowed, slamming their feet on the floor before putting them right back on the table, making her growl and ready to pull her hair out.

"Fred, George," Arthur sighed, frowning at the two sixteen year old boys, "Feet off the table."

"Feet off the table!" they grinned, putting their feet on the floor. Arthur sighed, smiling, hoping that maybe they would stay on the floor this time as he tried to read the –

SLAM!

- Prophet….

Hermione walked into the kitchen at the Burrow, her arms ladled with books and parchment and a quill sticking out of her ponytail. She sighed, seeing twenty one year old Fred and George's feet on the table as they discussed about the shop.

"Guys," she said tiredly, "I _really_ need to study for the written Auror's exam. Could you _please_ get your feet off the table? I'd go somewhere else, but Ron and Harry are hogging the study, and Ginny's off on a wedding induced rant, so just _please_, for this _one time_, could you get your feet off the table and keep them off?"

Fred quietly got his feet off the table and set them on the floor, earning a raised eyebrow from George as he slammed his feet on the floor.

"What?" he asked, "Are we actually going to give Granger the table?"

"Yes," was all Fred said.

Hermione sighed with a smile, setting the books on the table, "_Thank you._"

* * *

><p>"Granger?"<p>

"Not like that, George."

"Granger?"

"No, George, not like that."

"_Granger_?"

"Are you listening to me _at all_?"

"_Ron's_ Granger?"

"Okay, first off," Fred frowned at his twin, "Ron lost the right to call her his when he started cheating on her with Lavender Brown. Secondly – _it is not bloody like that!_"

"You got your feet off the table for her! And _kept_ them off!"

"_So_?"

"_So_ – you don't do that for just anybody! Not even me!"

"George, back off."

George then gasped, looking horrified, "How could you?"

Fred sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "George, listen – "

"No," he cut him off, his lower lip quivering, "No, I know when I need to back off."

"Obviously not or else I wouldn't have had to bloody tell you!"

George gaped at him before giving a great big sniff and running off, supposedly sobbing.

"Git," Fred muttered under his breath.

"What was all that about?" somebody asked, appearing near Fred's arm. He jumped upon seeing Hermione there, silent and looking up at him.

"Err – just George being George," he shrugged.

"Umm," she said, looking uncertain, "Alright. Hey, listen, d'you know where Harry is? I need to ask him what he got on this one question. They keep asking trick ones and I can't tell if that one is a trick one or not. Anyway – do you know where he is?"

"Err…backyard," he said, "De-gnoming."

"Thanks!" she said with a grin before walking away.

All he'd done was get his feet off the table for her, he thought as he watched her go, it meant nothing….

Right?


	2. The Couch

Nearly everybody had put their feet on the couch at some point. Mrs. Weasley just didn't like it if you had your shoes on at the time.

"Fred, George," Mrs. Weasley glared at the seven year old boys sharing the couch, heads on opposite ends and feet meeting in the middle, "Shoes off the couch!"

"Shoes off the couch!" they echoed, kicking off their trainers and lobbing them at Percy.

"Fred," Mr. Weasley frowned at the seventeen year old redhead, "Shoes off the couch."

He nodded, taking off his shoes before chunking them at a passing Charlie, who then threw them back at him.

Fred walked down the staircase, up and early that morning to open up the shop. As he walked down, he noticed that a fire had died sometime during the night and was now giving off a feeble glow. Walking as quietly as he could to the living room, he stopped once he saw Hermione curled up on the couch, shoes off and a book slipping from her grasp.

"Hermione?" he whispered, watching as a moan escaped her lips and she opened her eyes, frowning at the dying fire before turning to him, rubbing her eye.

"Mmn, Fred?" He grinned as her eyes began to droop again but she sat up a little more, "What time is it?"

He walked past her and grabbed a blanket that had been neatly thrown over the back of a chair, unfolding it and walking back to her. He placed the soft, thick plaid material over her and took the book from her, placing it on the coffee table as she tried to sit up. He gently took her shoulder and guided her back down. "It's time for you to go back to sleep."

She smiled at him and closed her eyes, hugging the pillow with one hand and the blanket with the other, "Thanks, Fred."

"Goodnight, Hermione," he said softly before going out the back door, to the Apparation point, and Apparating away.

* * *

><p>Fred leaned against the counter, frowning at a burn mark on its surface as he thought. George had gotten up a few hours after he did and had walked in without so much as a 'hello' to his twin, but he was talking enthusiastically to Lee. Lee, however, was trying to interrogate Fred when nobody was looking, because he, apparently, looked 'shifty.'<p>

He stopped in his thinking as he let out a big yawn, hearing his jaw pop as he brought a hand up to rest his chin in his palm and his eyes fought to stay open. He quickly lost and he was soon in a space where he was both awake and asleep at the same time. He heard the door open and thought nothing of it, and footsteps getting closer, and something that smelled nice and fruity…

"Fred?" Hermione questioned with a smile as his eyes blinked open, then closed again, and then opened once more.

"Morning," he mumbled as he pushed his hands against the counter and stepped back, stretching himself out, "How're you?"

"Alright," she grinned, "You drained too?"

"What, this?" he smiled wearily, "Psshht, this is nothing."

"You just fell asleep standing up."

"I was _leaning_."

She laughed and he smiled more, liking the carefree sound of it, "How late were you up?"

"A little past twelve, I think. How late were _you_ up?"

"Umm…I think I was only asleep for ten minutes by the time you walked down."

"Have you been asleep since?"

"I wish," she sighed, "_Ron_ came downstairs."

"I'm so sorry. I should've tried to shut him in a pyramid, Mum might not have noticed until we got home then."

She laughed again as Lee zoomed towards her – in his socks, no less – and nearly toppled her over.

"HERMIONE!" he yelled, gripping her forearms as she and Fred both looked at him with confused faces, "WHAT DID FRED DO TO GEORGE?"

She blinked, "What?"

"George is mad at Fred," Lee huffed, dropping his hands, "And I have no idea why."

"Why don't you ask me?" Fred frowned.

"Why, Geo – oh," he blinked as he turned to him, "You're Fred. Sorry. Parental vision and all that."

"Peripheral," Hermione corrected.

"That too." Lee turned back to her, "Anyway – hi. How're you?"

She arched an eyebrow but smiled, "Fine. How're you?"

"Short one employee," he said nonchalantly before continuing in a rush, "So, Hermione, you're looking great today, something with your hair please help us, oh please oh please – hey is that new perfume or something, it smells great and I – "

She cut him off with a laugh, "Yes, Lee, I'll help you. And thank you for the compliments."

He beamed and threw his arms around her, "Thaaaaaank yoooouuuu. You're our savior – forget Potter."

"What about me?" Harry frowned as he walked towards them, Ron at his side.

"Err – nothing," Lee snapped his hands away from her, "Nothing at all, Mister Potter, sir."

"Oh, he was just saying that Hermione is the real savior," Fred grinned and batted his eyes at them as he put his chin on his arms, which were folded across the counter. His smile turned into another big yawn.

Harry laughed, "Oh yeah, we all know that."

"If it wasn't for Mione, Harry and I would be dead since our first year," Ron grinned before frowning at the floor, "Fluffy was not a nice poochie…."

Hermione let out a loud laugh with Harry, making Fred try to remember the sound for future reference. Purely professional reference, mind you, he _did_ work in a joke shop. Although _what_ her laugh had to do with pranks….

Hermione, Harry and Ron helped Fred, George and Lee out all day, Fred being the only one George wouldn't talk to. But at the end of the day, when they were all closing up, George ordered him and Hermione to go outside and head on out, that he wanted a word with Harry, Ron and Lee. Fred arched an eyebrow at him. Was George really _that_ mad at him?

George smiled at him and spoke to him for the first time that day, "No, I just want to talk to them about their pay for the day."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him before opening her mouth to protest giving her or Ron or Harry any money, but he beat her to the chase as well.

"No, Granger, I know you won't accept it, I just like arguing with these fools. Now go on and tell Mum we'll be late to dinner," he grinned before practically shoving them out the door.

"In all honesty, I'm not that hungry," Fred said as they walked away from the shop, even though they could've just apparated away.

Hermione laughed again, "Especially not after the Bubotuber paste accidentally mixed in with the Nosebleed Nougats!"

Fred laughed as well, "That wasn't appetizing at all!"

She shook her head, still laughing with him, "I can't believe Ron tried to lick it though."

"Oh, I can. I bet him five Sickles to do it," he grinned at her as she tried to hide her smirk and lightly hit his arm.

"So, what to do now?" he asked after a moment, shoving his hands in his pockets.

She let out a loud yawn, "Go get some sleep."

He nodded his agreement before groaning, "I can't go to the Burrow or Mum will yell at me for either being late to dinner or not eating dinner, and I can't go to our loft because it's a mess, so…I'll go nap on a bench."

Hermione rolled her eyes as he made to move to the nearest bench, hooking her arm through hers and Apparating them both to her loft. Fred flopped down on her couch the moment he was stable, and she turned to frown at him.

"What?" he asked as he snuggled himself down in the cushions.

"I'm trying to figure out whether to sleep in the chair, on the carpet, or in the bed," she told him.

He rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around her waist, jerking her into him and settling her head over his heart. She gave a chuckle before wrapping her arms around his torso and finally falling asleep.

All she'd done was let him crash on her couch, he thought to himself as his eyelids drooped, it was just a friendly gesture. The friendly gesture couldn't be marred by the fact that he'd towed her down with him…right?

_Sorry, Buddy_, his subconscious betrayed him, _You're already falling for her, and you know it. Just wait, and you'll see. Oh, and while you're up – get your shoes off her couch, it's rude._

If it would've gotten the little George-like voice in his head, he would've impaled himself in between the eyes with a knife.

…

He silently kicked his shoes off and let them hit the carpet with a padded 'thud.'

Well, it was terribly rude anyway, no matter who said it.


	3. Period

It is, of course, very rude to put your feet upon furniture. It is very bad to have to be told this multiple times.

It is, obviously, terrible to be departed _from_ your feet, however.

"Bloody hell!" Fred screeched, his eyes wide as he stared down at where his feet should've been. Instead, bloody stumps were in their place.

"Fred! Holy hell!" George actually cracked right next to him, paling as he stared at his twin's ankle-nubs.

"Don't panic! He's merely been splinched!" the instructor said, although he too was paling, "We must get him to the Hospital Wing!"

Once Fred – and his feet – were sent to the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey only sighed and busied herself with a potion, shooing George out with a soiled rag. If it had been a clean one, he probably would've stayed.

Fred amused himself be examining his bloody stumps, squinting his eyes and making faces as he did so. He sighed loudly as the door opened, sniffles being heard as Neville apologized profusely.

"So sorry, _so sorry_, I didn't mean it like that, I was just saying – oh, Madame Pomfrey! Madame Pomfrey, we need your help!" Neville called out. Fred gently lowered his stump and listened.

"What is it now, Longbottom, I'm very b – oh my!" she gasped.

"Don't make her cry again, please," Neville begged, "I had enough of a time getting her to calm down after Snape picked on her about it, and then I said something and..."

"That man, honestly!" she huffed as he heard feet shuffle around, "I wouldn't touch him with a thirty nine and a half foot pole!"

"Err – what?" Neville asked as the creak of the bed springs was heard, the patient sitting down and sniffling closer to him.

"Muggle reference deary, you wouldn't quite understand it. Now, I'm going to shrink them, and you just tell me to stop when they're close to what they used to be. Oh, Longbottom, hand me that mirror."

"Yes, Ma'am."

A few moments passed before a smug sounding "There" was heard. Fred was shocked to hear that it was Hermione.

"Granger?" he called out.

"Fred?" she asked as Neville stepped back to see him. He paled and a hand flew up to his mouth, nearly throwing up.

"Longbottom, get away from him, you know you have a weak stomach!" Pomfrey ordered, "Well dear, you're fixed. You can say hi to Mister Weasley, and I'll let you go to your _next_ class later."

Hermione stepped into view and blinked at his appearance. Then she smirked and put a hand on her hip, "You _would_ get splinched."

"Anything for attention," he grinned, setting his arms behind his head before frowning, "Now why are you in here?"

She sighed, walking towards him and setting herself in a chair next to him, "Malfoy made my teeth grow into these huge saber-toothed monsters, and then Snape only made matters worse."

"Neville said you were crying," he watched as she settled herself farther back into the chair.

She sighed again, "I was. I mean, I get picked on enough, don't you think? Sometimes I get tired of it."

"Hey," he said softly, "At least you've got your feet."

She smiled, "That's a good thing, at least. So, how was the Apparation practice?"

"Interesting," Fred hummed, "George successfully apparated over to me to find that I was bleeding from my newly formed nubs. Do you think this will hurt my chances of getting a date for the Yule Ball?"

"It might slow you, at the very least," she grinned, making Fred do the same before he stared intently at her face.

"What did you do to your teeth?" he asked, frowning at the straight and normal sized teeth.

She grinned wider, "Even Neville didn't notice! I'm surprised! Well, you see, I've been begging my parents for ages to let me use magic on my teeth, but they're dentists – Muggles who fix other Muggles' teeth – so they were very much against it, so when she said to just tell her when to stop, I might've…."

"You _lied_?" Fred's eyes shone brighter, his own grin widening, "_You_ lied?"

"Oh hush," she swatted at him, "And don't you dare tell Ron or Harry or anybody else either, I want to see how long it will take them."

"I won't even tell George."

She gasped, covering her mouth as her eyes widened, "Not even _George_?"

"Nope! The prat left me – eeyaaah!" Fred flailed, finding his feet back in their places. He blinked at them as Hermione tried to hide her giggles behind her hand. He glanced and glared at her, reaching forward to untie his shoes to check if his feet were in the right positions, "It's very rude to laugh at people when they've just lost their feet you know."

"Even if they sounded like an exotic bird as they squawked to see that their feet were back?" she questioned innocently.

"Even then," he grumbled as she coughed back a new round of giggles.

"Ungh, Fred," he heard as she shifted a little, "Mmf, Fred, leggo."

"Why?" he whispered, burying his face further into her hair, "You're warm and smell nice and I'm comfy."

"Yes, well I'm not," Hermione hissed back, "Let go, I've got buttons on my jeans pressing into my hipbones, and it's bloody uncomfortable."

"But you'll leave me," he whimpered a little, pouting as he hugged her closer to him. "Don't leave me, Hermione, please."

She sighed, "Let me just go change, and I'll be right back. I'll even bring a blanket to make up for my absence."

He thought about it before relenting, flinging his arms away from her with a dramatic sigh and hitting his head against a pillow. She chuckled as she stood up, the outline of her in the darkness showing that she was stretching as she padded to her room. Fred waited for a few moments, his eyes closing somewhere along the way, before she slipped back into place next to him, making him grin as she tossed the blanket around them.

"G'night, Fred," she whispered as he buried his face into her hair once more, feeling her curl her legs up next to his.

"Night, Hermione," he whispered back. He waited for a few minutes before continuing, "Even though we said that already the first time."

He heard her sleepy chuckle as a reply before they went back to sleep.

The next day, George found that his twin was slung halfway over the desk he was working at, pouting up at him as he blinked in shock. If he'd been two seconds late, he would've gotten an eyeful of leech secretion.

"Help me," he begged, sliding a little away.

George blinked, taking a glance to the potion Fred had moved to make sure it was stable before turning his attention back to him, "With what?"

"I admit it, okay?" Fred slid a little more.

"Admit what?" he glanced around the room as if something would jump out and scream "Me! He means me!"

"She's smart and pretty and smells really really nice and she's so freakin' warm," Fred suddenly plunged his face into his arms, muffling to his brother now from the depths of his deep purple sweater, "Merlin, she's warm. And she's nice and brave and just…."

"Who?" George scowled down at him, the list of girls in his mind hardly helping him any.

"'_Ermifkee_."

"What?"

Fred lifted his head, "_Hermione_."

"Oh!" George snapped, beaming, "Well, of course! So you're not in Egypt anymore?"

"George, I haven't been to Egypt in years."

"Merlin, she's drained you," George groaned, turning to the potion, "Mark down five minutes, will you?"

Fred did as he was asked, "Leeches?"

"Yup. So, what are you planning to do?"

"Let's try the mole wart and see where that goes."

"I meant with Hermione."

"Oh. No idea, that's why I need your help."

"Aha. I see. And what do you expect me to do?"

"Something. Add cat hair before that pops, huh?"

"Yeah. But does she have any clue?"

"Of what? That I am completely infatuated with her or that we _might've_ given her cat a haircut?"

"Umm, originally the first one, but now…."

"The first one, no idea, the second she glared at me lengthily for. I found five new freckles on her face that day."

"Lovely. Mole wart now or cabbage?"

"Ahh…cabbage. And then add the worm spleen and _then_ the mole wart."

"Alrighty. This will really make Malfoy's day, huh Fred?"

"Undoubtedly."

* * *

><p><strong>Hey, I'm asking you guys what your parents tell you to get your feet off of. My parents, for instance, tell me to get my feet off the couch all the time. They tell my older brother to get his feet off the table. Everybody else is too short (Julie, Harris[little sis, little bro]) to put anything up or too snobby (<em><span>Lexi<span>_ [older sis]) to do so. So I'm in need of fillers. So, remember – key word is FEET.**


	4. The Bed

**This one goes out to Ziva Lou! Thanks!**

* * *

><p>The springs were creaking, groaning under all the weight, but he didn't care. He gave a loud sigh, the creaking still going on. Creak, creak, creak, creak….<p>

He loved jumping up and down on his bed. He always had, ever since he was a kid. His mother had, of course, told him to get down. Once he got bigger and couldn't use magic, he was crushed. But once he could, he soon realized that he could raise the ceiling so he could jump as high as he want. After he fell off and onto the floor a couple of times, he realized that he could soften the floor and other furniture pieces as well.

This is usually what he did to think.

"What to do?" he hummed, bouncing a little higher and staring out of the window, paying no mind to his across-the-alley-neighbor, who had since then been convinced that Fred and his twin were crazy.

"What to do with what?" a voice said from the doorway, making him yelp and fly off his bed, crashing onto the floor.

Of all the days to forget to soften the thing though….

"Oh, Fred!" Hermione cried, flying over to his side, "Are you alright?"

He groaned and rolled over on to his back, incidentally putting his head on her lap. "Always remember to soften the floor. Remember. Always."

"Oh you barmy idiot, why did you jump on your bed?" she asked, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Didn't your mum ever tell you not to?"

"Of course, have you met her?" he snorted, "And, then again, have you met me?"

She sighed, brushing back his hair, "Yes. And you seem alright."

"My head hurts," he muttered, tugging her closer and burying his face into her stomach  
>as he'd seen Teddy do. Merlin, she smelled great. Like, strawberries. Maybe it was just a normal Hermione-like scent. He'd have to try to duplicate it sometime, it'd be a marvelous perfume for girls not gifted with such a scent.<p>

She laughed, still running her hand through his hair, "Well that's what you get for falling on the floor."

He pulled away from her to frown up at her, "I did not _fall_ – I _jumped_. I thought I softened it when I didn't, okay?"

She giggled, pushing him off of her to look up at the ceiling. She eyed the bed, then hopped on, shakily looking down at him as he grinned. She smirked back, and started bouncing, humming to herself before she began to sing "One little monkey, jumping on the bed, the monkey fell off and bumped it's head. The mum called the doctor and the doctor said 'no more monkeys jumping on the bed.'"

He stood up slowly, still smiling at her, "Where'd you learn that?"

"I used to jump on my bed all the time when I was little," she answered with a smile, "My mum taught me that song to get me to stop jumping on the bed. I didn't."

He chuckled before noticing that she was slowing her jumps now, looking far-off at his dresser before shaking her head, getting more speed in it. "Thinking about your parents?"

"Yeah," she answered quietly.

"Why can't you just go to Australia and fix them?" he asked.

"Because I hid them so well even _I_ couldn't find them," she snorted before looking sadly at him, "And besides – even if I did find them, I'd never be able to fix them. The spell I used was too strong."

"You really thought you were going to die, didn't you?" he asked in awe.

She dropped to her knees, looking down at her hands before up at him. She'd been scared. She'd been so terrified. Fred blinked as she looked down at the floor and tears started to well up.

"Hey," he said, rushing towards her and pulling her into his shoulder, burying his face into her hair, "Hey, don't cry. I'm sorry. I never should've brought it up. C'mon, let's go back – jumping on the bed, monkeys and all that, right?"

She sniffed and pulled away from him, nodding, "Right." She smiled before wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly as he quickly did the same.

At that moment in time, Fred could only think _"Monkeys **rock**."_

* * *

><p><strong>Just a quick drabble concerning feet. That's what these few will be. Drabbles getting up to the big thing. Meh. *shrug* I rather like it.<strong>


	5. The Coffee Table

Hermione sighed, her feet propped up on the coffee table in her flat, running a hand through her hair as she read. She heard the door open, but didn't turn as she thought it was just Harry coming in to drop of a book of hers he'd borrowed.

"Hermione Jean Granger, you get your feet off that coffee table!" somebody ordered, automatically making her drop her legs.

_Jeez, sound like my mother, why don't you Harr – wait. Harry doesn't have a feminine voice._ She blinked and turned to find that a woman with a heart shaped face and dark brown hair was smiling at her, a man with square glasses and light brown hair standing next to her and smiling as well, Fred standing next to the two and grinning as Hermione gaped.

"You'd be very surprised at the fact that duct tape fixes everything," Fred explained as she looked between him and her parents, "Including Memory Charms."

Hermione was still gaping before she beamed, her eyes glinting before she jumped up from her couch and launched herself at her parents, "Mum! Dad!"

"Hermione!" her mum was grinning as well, clutching at her daughter as her husband hugged his two girls. "Oh, Love, we missed you so much! I can't believe you did that – you'd be in so much trouble if I hadn't missed you so much."

Hermione pulled away from her parents, grinning at Fred, "Duct tape, really?"

He winced and shuffled his feet a bit, rubbing the back of his head, "Err – no, not really." At her grin getting bigger, he huffed, "You're not the _only_ smart one, you know."

Instead of answering him, she rushed into his arms and hugged him tightly, making him smile and hug her back.

* * *

><p><strong>…Whatever. I just don't even know anymore.<strong>


	6. The Dash

**Whoa, hey, look, I'm updating after five months! Sorry guys, but I've had a whole boatload of distractions, from having a speaking part in a play to one of my best friend's moving to my dad having major surgery. (Do you feel guilty about being mad at me for that last one? I hope so. FEEL THE GUILT. No wait don't I love you) Besides, it's not like I haven't done anything Fred-Hermione (what IS that anyway? Frermione? Fremione? Meh.) If you'd allow me to point you over to a collection of ever-growing oneshots named '_Headaches'_ after this chapter as a consolation for forgetting to update after all this time. Oh, and also – if you want me to draw something, there's a poll on the top of my bio on what to draw. Just FYI.**

**This chapter owes thanks to a 'Lord Shade.' I'm still looking for more though, that was just the first one that popped up in my reviews. **

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><p>Hermione sighed, pouting at Harry as Ginny and George leaned against each other in the backseat, already asleep, while Fred was watching out the window. Harry had ordered them all in the car, saying that they were going to meet Ron, Lee and Luna at a special surprise destination.<p>

"Harry, just let me drive," she insisted.

"No – my car, my rules," he frowned back, "Besides, you don't even know where we're going."

"You can tell me where to go," she smiled sweetly.

"No, Hermione," he shook his head.

She sighed and propped her feet up on the dash of the car, making Harry's hands grip the steering wheel tighter.

"Get your freaking feet _off_ my freaking dash," he practically growled.

"Let me drive then," she smirked, making Fred turn away from the window to watch, although he couldn't see much of Hermione as he was behind her seat.

"Hermione," Harry glared out at the road as she picked her feet up and leaned back, placing them on the roof of the car to torment him. Harry got out his wand and flicked it at her, her seatbelt coming undone and the back of her seat vanishing so she fell into Fred's lap with a gasp. This startled Ginny awake, making her swing around to punch Hermione in the nose, George looking on in horror as Hermione immediately covered her face.

"Shit, Harry!" she yelped as Fred gaped at her, still in shock from her falling into his lap, let alone what Ginny had done and what she'd said. Harry meekly pulled over and turned around to see Hermione glaring at him and showing him the blood on her hands.

He grinned sheepishly at her, "Wanna drive?"

"I _can't_ when I have a _concussion!_" she glared as Ginny began to dab at her face with a tissue from her purse.

"Don't look at me, I'm not the one who hit you!"

"You're the one who put me within hitting range of her!" she continued to glare, "You _know_ Ginny hits people when she's startled awake!"

"Oh my Merlin," George grinned and hid his face, trying not to laugh.

"Are you alright?" Fred asked, smiling at her as Ginny unhooked her seatbelt and practically climbed on top of Hermione to dab at the blood.

"Aside from a broken nose?" Ginny winced apologetically at her as Harry hit his head against the steering wheel.

"It's broken?" Hermione asked worriedly, leaning into Fred as he rubbed her back to get her to calm down.

"Well it's swelling," George offered.

"Harry, we've got to take her to a hospital, nobody knows how to mend broken noses, or even know how to tell if it's broken," Ginny said as she smoothed back her friend's hair.

"But the – " Harry cut off with a wince as Hermione sneezed and cried out, holding her nose again, "Right. Muggle or Mungo's?"

"We can't leave the car, best go to a Muggle one," Ginny instructed as she got up and slid into Hermione's seat, Harry putting the back of the seat back as Fred helped Hermione in between him and George.

"'Ooh doh wha?" Hermione asked, blanching when her voice came out funny, "I dink 'Arry an' 'Inny 'id dis on pur'ose."

Fred laughed and nodded, George patting her softly on the head.

"Don't worry, our little broken one, we'll get them back for you," Fred grinned at her.

"Danks," she smiled back, accepting the tissue Ginny offered her. "Bu' I can maahage."

"You can what?" George asked.

"Manage," Fred translated, "And alright, but if you need the help…."

"Yah," she nodded. "Now don' mae me tal' no more – I soun' funny."

* * *

><p>"Do you think Tom lost his nose because it got broken so many times and healed that way, and whenever they had to re-break his nose somebody was having a <em>really<em> bad day and got carried away?" Harry asked them as they sat in the waiting room.

"No wonder he had to look like a snake – he wanted to make it seem as though he got rid of his nose on purpose," Fred laughed.

Hermione shot him a smile before spitting blood in the trashcan in front of her, making a couple of teenaged boys gape at her. "Ugh."

"It's alright, Hermione, we'll get it fixed here then go to Mungo's later," Ginny whispered.

"Mmn," she hummed before spitting once more.

"Look at those kids over there," George whispered to Fred, "They think she's really tough."

"I am," Hermione managed, making the twins grin at her and nod.

"One of the toughest – you didn't even cry when she hit you," Fred said, one of the boys gaping at his friend with his eyes wide.

"Iddn't 'urt _dat_ much," she said before wincing, "Jus' when I sneeze."

"Mum is going to murder you two," George laughed at Harry and Ginny, "You for hitting her, and you for dropping her off in Freddie's lap."

"What kind of people _are you_?" one of the kids asked before he was shushed by his friend.

"Berry hardco'," Hermione before spitting back in the trashcan, taking a tissue from Ginny and holding it to her nose, "Wass wrong wiff joo?"

"I think I might've broken my arm," the second kid answered, "What happened to you?"

"I woke 'er up," she pointed to Ginny before pointing to Harry, "When '_ee_ drop me off in Fred's 'ap."

"Dude," the unharmed kid said, "Even with all the blood, you're _lucky_."

Hermione flushed as Ginny, Harry and George tried not to laugh for her sake, although Fred was grinning.

"Hermione Granger?" the nurse asked.

"Oh dank Bob," Hermione shot up from her chair and scooted the trashcan away, walking over to the nurse and pointing at her nose. "P'ease 'elp."

"Right this way, Honey," she smiled, nodding her and her friends to another room.

* * *

><p>"What happened to your face?" Lee yelled, running towards Hermione as she and the others stepped out of the Floo.<p>

"Your face!" Ron cried as Luna clapped her hands over her face and her eyes went wide at the sight of Hermione's nose held together with what looked like tape.

"Harry made me fall into Fred's lap which startled Ginny awake and Ginny hit me in my face area," Hermione answered before smiling, "By the way, I've had painkillers."

"Harry, why would you do that?" Lee asked.

"Keep your freaking feet off my dash," he shrugged, plopping into a chair.

* * *

><p><strong>Eeyup. I've never had a broken nose before, but I know that if it starts healing wrong when it's broken, they have to re-break it so they can align it properly. I always figured that's why Voldemort had no nose, that someone was having a very bad day at work and decided to take it out on his nose after it'd started healing wrong. And I don't even know if you spit up blood when you break your nose. But I figured if you can snort liquids out of it, why not?<strong>

**Sorry, I'm being gross. Bye.**


	7. The Floor

**Hi. Sorry, it's been a while again. I honestly don't plan these.**

**Oh, and this one was submitted by ****_The Karma Fairy._**** Sorry, again, that's taken so long. I'll try to get around to all of them (although there aren't that many and I'm just lazy as fuck.)**

* * *

><p>"No!" was what greeted Fred as he walked into Shell Cottage, expecting his brother and sister-in-law and niece in some family activity of some sort. Instead, he found Hermione Granger, Teddy Lupin and the aforementioned niece standing on various pieces, looking at him with the utmost horror.<p>

He quickly pieced together that Hermione was babysitting the two young kids, even though she claimed that her nose still hurt, and therefore they hadn't been able to go to whatever surprise Ron, Luna, Lee and Harry had planned yet, but she had promised that perhaps tomorrow would be a better Nose Day. She'd obviously blew off whatever surprise it was to spend the day with them, although Fred was still concerned as to why they were all screaming 'no' at him.

"What?" he asked, dropping the box of books he'd planned to give back to his brother and stepping closer to them.

"The floor is lava!" Victoire and Teddy both yelled. Fred gave a quick glance to Hermione, who was smiling at him and bouncing on her toes.

"It's _lava?_" he gaped at them before hopping onto the couch with them, "Why didn't you tell me sooner? Quick, do I still have all my toes?"

"One, two, three, four…uhh," Victoire stopped and looked at him seriously, "What comes after that?"

"Five," he prompted with a smile.

"Five! Each!" she said, making him sigh in relief.

"Oh, good," he wiped imaginary sweat off of his brow, "I was worried."

Hermione giggled at him, hopping over onto an armchair as Teddy pouted at being stranded on the couch. "We got bored. We were _supposed_ to be doing something educational, but the books Fleur had left were dull and monotonous."

"That means it doesn't change at all," Teddy told Fred happily, "And it basically means it's boring as poo."

"Teddy," Hermione chided, "Don't call things boring as poo. Somebody worked very hard on those books, and they should at least be given respect for their time and effort."

"I didn't call _them _poo," Teddy frowned, "I called their books poo!"

"Let's stop talking about poo," Victoire frowned at her best friend. She sucked in a breath before screaming and tackling Teddy into the cushion, making Fred lurch and grab them before they both fell off. "The volcano erupted! Lava's spurting everywhere! I totally just saved your life!"

"Nuh-uh!" Teddy exclaimed as Fred set him down on the arm chair with Hermione.

"Yeah-huh!" Victoire pouted, hands on her hips. Hermione and Fred glanced between each other before sharing grins.

* * *

><p>Fred was nearly falling asleep, watching with a small smile as Hermione absentmindedly sang to Teddy, running her hands through his hair, which was the same shade of brown as hers and had curls. Victoire was taking up the entire couch by herself, making Hermione and Fred share the loveseat with Teddy, who was falling asleep in Hermione's lap.<p>

"_And down on Lexington they're wearing new shoes stuck to aging feet, and close their eyes and open, and won't recognize the aging street, and think about how things were right when they were young and veins were tight and if you are the ghost of Christmas past, then won't you stay the night?_"

"What song is that?" Fred whispered.

"Ne Me Quitte Pas," she answered after checking to make sure Teddy was soundly asleep. "Or Don't Leave Me. Both are correct titles."

"It sounds nice," he hummed as she laid her head on his shoulder, "Weird, but nice."

* * *

><p>"Oy, we paid you to watch our kid, not cuddle up on my brother," Bill joked, waking up the whole group as Fleur picked up Victoire and started to go up the stairs.<p>

Hermione shot him a glare, rubbing an eye, "You're not paying me at all, so I can 'cuddle up on' whoever the – " she covered Teddy's ears " – I want."

"Aunty said a bad word!" Teddy crowed.

"Teddy, I covered your ears," Hermione huffed.

"People do that when they say bad words," he told her before pointing at her, "I'mma tell Gram!"

"No!" Hermione lurched and wrapped her arms around his stomach, towing him back into her lap, "No, this is not one to tell your gram. Please, Teddy."

"Tedster," Fred looked at him very seriously in the eyes, "If you tell Andromeda about Hermione saying a bad word, then she won't let her watch after you anymore."

Teddy's eyes widened before he gave a cry and wrapped his arms around her neck, hugging her close, "Don't leave me, Aunty!"

Hermione smiled and hugged him back, "I won't, Teddy, I promise. I'll never ever leave you."

"Good," he muffled, "I love you."

She smiled and seemed to hug him harder, Bill and Fred watching with smiles on their faces, "I love you too, Teddy."

"Oh, by the way – why are you here?" Bill asked Fred.

"I came to drop off the books," Fred stretched.

"Why'd you stay?" he asked.

"Psht," Fred snorted, rolling his eyes, "The floor was _lava_, I _couldn't_ leave."

"What?" Bill asked blankly.

"Aunty!" Teddy gasped as Hermione stood with him in his grasp.

"Don't worry, Teddy," she patted his arm, "It's cooled off now. It's safe."

"I'll walk you guys back," Fred offered, making her smile at him and wave to Bill before they left. Bill watched them go curiously before turning his attention onto the floor and tapping it cautiously with a foot.

* * *

><p><strong>I don't think Bill played the "The Floor is Lava" game when he was younger.<strong>


	8. Of Fred

**CONGRATULATIONS GUYS WE HIT ONE HUNDRED REVIEWS**

**That's it. Major announcement. Big milestone. Yay.**

**I'm mainly writing this today instead of waiting for my winter break because I just got done with a play today and I'm missing my cast mates already. D: I feel really sad. I shall remedy this, however, by playing Regina Spektor songs and writing Fremione! (Also gonna work on Headaches by the way. Might not update it soon though.)**

**Today's suggestion was made by EpicChocolate! **

* * *

><p>"Working on your tan?"<p>

Hermione snorted, a small smile gracing her features as she glanced up at the umbrella, and the red head peaking down from underneath it, "More like trying not to get a sunburn."

"Ooh, you burn easy too?" Fred asked with a grin.

"I've got freckles up and down my arms and back – even my legs, but those were left over the last time Ginny and Luna took me to a beach," Hermione hummed, going back to her book. Harry, Ron, Lee, and Luna's surprise had been a week and a half long trip to the beach, which would've been two weeks if Hermione hadn't hurt her nose. They said it was a way to relax and remind themselves that they weren't robots and deserved a break. The first day there, and Hermione was sitting on a bench with her legs tucked up underneath her, an umbrella blocking the sun as she read. She'd put on her swimsuit, as Lee and Harry had demanded her to, but she'd put on a baggy shirt over it and stuck her tongue out at them when they'd glared at her.

"I'll take your word for it," Fred said, collapsing on the bench next to her and shaking water out of his hair. He blinked when he felt something in his lap, looking down and finding pale legs stretching over his lap and ankles crossing to prop her feet up on the other side of this thigh. He blinked at her in surprise, his eyebrows no doubt ridiculously high, but she only kept reading as if this was all natural and common, which it most certainly was not.

"Oy, Hermione, get your feet off of Fred!" Harry called out, "Not everybody enjoys being your footstool!"

"He didn't complain!" she called back, but removed her feet anyway and pulled them closer to her, setting the back of the book against her thighs, her eyes never leaving the pages.

Fred, for possibly the first time in his life, couldn't find anything witty or charming or even remotely funny to say.

* * *

><p>"You should paint your toenails," Ginny said dully as they all camped out in the living room of the house by the sea they were renting. Ginny was lying on the floor in front of the couch that Hermione and Fred were sitting in, Fred wanting to see if Hermione would pick her feet up again and settle them on him again, Lee and Luna on the loveseat as Harry and George sat in chairs, giving victorious looks to Ron, who had been forced to sit on the ottoman, as his sister's feet were sitting up by Hermione on the couch and she refused to move them.<p>

"You should paint yours," Hermione said, giving a small smile down at her friend as they grew bored with the commercials.

"I could paint yours and you could paint mine," Ginny hummed.

Hermione quickly picked her feet up and frowned down at her as she gave a cheeky grin, obviously having some past experience with painting each other's toenails that had negative vibes. "No," Hermione said simply but sternly.

"Shush," Lee piped up, "Show's on again."

And it was silent again as one of the characters of some American show began to sing something about a smelly cat and play the guitar. During this, however, Hermione draped her legs over Fred's again.

He tried very hard not to grin.

* * *

><p><strong>Thing about Hermione putting her feet on people – she feels more comfortable around people when she does that. So Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna have all be footstools at one point or another. <strong>

**Fun Fact About Ava: I have naturally cold feet and hands. Nothing I ever do besides wearing millions of layers over them or setting them on fire will warm them up. But it doesn't bug me, so feel sorry for anybody who ever ends up with me and shall feel the wrath of the Icy Feet.**

**Love,**

**Ava**


	9. The Counter

**This one was submitted by cherryweasley1998 and Nissy Padfoot.**

* * *

><p>"So, how about this sun, guys?"<p>

"Shut up, Fred," everybody seemed to chorus, excluding Ginny, George, Hermione and Luna – who was still asleep upstairs. It was raining, pouring down sideways, trees bending and water rippling outside. As this was the second day of their trip, many of the planners were put out – although Luna would no doubt love the rain and demand that somebody go out there with her.

Hermione smiled and hopped up on the kitchen counter, done with breakfast but not quite ready to sit back at the table with them. She hummed to herself as there was a silent moment, crossing her legs until Ginny looked up and shot her a glare.

"Get your feet off the counter, we set food near there," she frowned.

Hermione sighed and did as she was asked, beating a rhythm on the cupboard below her counter with her heels. Fred watched on with an amused smile, although his sister was still shooting daggers at her. Hermione shot her a cheeky grin, her eyes crinkling, and lifted her legs straight out, pointing her toes first then wiggling and flexing them to annoy her. Her legs were actually rather long, but not ridiculously so and there were quite a few freckles on her thighs where her shorts did not cover.

Something hit his elbow and he looked up, seeing George's purposeful look and small smile before they both went back to eating.

* * *

><p>George gave an amused look at his twin as he shut the door with his back, arching an eyebrow at him.<p>

"This isn't just some 'nothing' thing, is it?" George asked after a long while.

"What are you on about?" Fred questioned curiously, tilting his head.

"You and Hermione," he said, "You're just really…wow, aren't you?"

"What?" Fred asked, still not quite understanding.

George gave a sympathetic smile, "You look like you're in love with her, Freddie."

"_What?_" Fred quite nearly shouted, eyebrows shooting up as he looked at him incredulously, "Where the _hell_ would you - ?"

"Fred, you look at her as if she'd hung the moon and set the stars," George grinned, looking as if he was quite proud of his twin.

Fred frowned instead, "Now I never said that."

"You never had to," he smiled before wincing a little, "Look, Freddie, if you never plan on doing anything about that – which, is entirely your decision, but I'll be peeved at you for it – you might want to watch how you look and act around her until you find some way to get yourself out of it. I don't want you _or_ her getting hurt, you know?" And with that, George opened the door and walked out, heading down the stairs to the living room.

Fred watched as the door automatically shut, a slight frown set on his face.

Perhaps he'd have to take George's advice until he got things sorted out with himself.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry guys, but sometimes there are reviews that have the same thing in them and I get one but miss the other so I'm sorry if that is the case. I'm only human – I make mistakes.<strong>


	10. The Grass

**Hi! Nice to see you lot again! Well, not ****_see_**** but – oh, you know what I mean. Well, I hope you do – because I do not.**

**I'm really just winging it with this one, because the suggestions are buried too deep beneath the sea of wonderful compliments – not that I'm complaining, of course.**

* * *

><p>"Ginny, Luna, get off!"<p>

Fred looked curiously to George before they stepped through the kitchen and into the living room, where Luna was pinning Hermione's shoulders and Ginny was sitting on her legs, carefully painting her toenails as she struggled against them. She looked up and saw that the twins were looking curiously down at her, making her slump and pout a little up at them.

"Help me," she whined right whenever Ginny capped the nail polish and grinned up at her brothers, standing and bowing as Luna released her as well, apologizing as she stood and frowned down at the hot pink color.

"You have no idea how difficult it is to paint her toenails when she's like that," Ginny sighed as Hermione smirked a little and edged a bit towards the stairs. Fred watched curiously as Ginny and George talked, George questioning as to why they had to pin Hermione down to paint her toenails, when Hermione reached out her leg and pressed her foot against the back of Ginny's white tank top, having her gasp and whirl around to glare at her as she gave a small scream and tore up the staircase.

"Hermione Granger!" she growled after her as Luna quickly got rid of the nail polish with her wand.

"So – what?" Fred asked smartly, arching an eyebrow at his sister.

"Hermione doesn't like people looking at her feet," Luna answered instead, "Nail polish brings attention to them."

"That's weird," Fred said bluntly.

"Well, not really," Ginny grinned sheepishly, "Whenever we paint her toenails, we hide all of her other shoes and the nail polish remover and make her wear sandals. It's a weird habit that we need to break her from."

"Very weird," George hummed.

* * *

><p>"Do you want help?" Fred asked with a small grin as Hermione toppled once again, reaching out and grabbing his arm as she huffed. They'd gone out to watch a movie, all of them, in fact, except Hermione and Fred felt like walking back to the beach, rather than Apparating. They'd taken a small detour through the park, and the heels – which were the only shoes that didn't show her feet – were proving to be quite difficult.<p>

Hermione huffed and held out her arm, stooping down and taking off a shoe as Fred steadied her by allowing her to hold on to his shoulder, stooping down to get the other one and sending them back to her room with a flick of her wand. Fred watched in amusement as she grinned at him and walked carefully.

"And what are you doing?" he asked after a moment.

"I'm walking barefoot in the goddamn park," she grinned back, making him blink at her language before she began to hum, "Of course, I'm not lousy, stinkin' drunk, and it's not two degrees."

"What?" he asked curiously, making her chuckle and grin over at him.

"Nothing, Muggle play," she said before looking up at the sky and smiling, "I've always wanted to do this."

"What, walk barefoot in the goddamn park?" he questioned with a grin.

"Yeah," she sighed, "At night, without anyone else around. It's…nice. It was on my bucket list."

"A what?" he asked curiously, making her grin wider.

"Things you want to do before you kick the bucket," she smiled, "I've just crossed it off."

"Well, then I'm very glad to have been here," he smiled back, trying desperately to ignore how hard his heart pounded. Maybe, possibly, there was a slight chance that George was right.

But only a slight one.

* * *

><p><strong>I know it isn't much for such a long delay, but I figured I needed to give <strong>**_something._**

**Just remember, Darlings, suggestions are always welcome, so long as they have something to do with feet.**


	11. Of Hermione

**Do you people know how many things you should not put your feet on?**

**Not a lot.**

**Heeeellllp meeeee or I can't update this.**

* * *

><p>"Why was this an idea?"<p>

"Okay, I'm all for the spirit of fun and a good time, but I agree with Granger. This is shit, Fred."

Fred huffed and turned back to George and Hermione, who were huddled together and shivering, Harry standing on top of the hill and shining a light down on them as they neared towards the woods. It was now nearly Christmas, and Fred had decided that a trek into the woods by Harry's recent residence was needed. Harry had stopped at the hill and was debating on either going along with them or heading back inside to be with his girlfriend, and Hermione was stuffing her hands in her pockets and irritably huffing at the cold air, George sniffing loudly every few minutes.

"Because it's an adventure," he stated simply.

"More like a broken ankle waiting to happen," Hermione murmured before Fred sighed loudly and frowned at her, making her think she was about to be told off before he unwound his scarf from around his neck and started to wrap it around hers instead.

"Look, we just need to get the logs out there for the fire, maybe a bit of snow for Harry for leaving us, and then we'll be right back inside warming up," Fred promised, smiling once only her eyes were seen, but frowning when she unwound the scarf somewhat, keeping it loosely around her.

"The sooner we get the logs, the sooner we get in, and the sooner I can argue with my siblings over the Quidditch match on the radio and Granger can roll her eyes all she wants at us," George said before sniffing loudly once more, stomping through the snow past them as Hermione turned back to Harry.

"Are you coming or what?" she questioned.

"Nah," Harry decided, "I really don't like the idea of leaving Ginny alone in there. Especially since we're placing bets on the match."

"You don't even trust your own girlfriend?" Fred asked with a grin as Harry turned to head back.

"Do you trust your own sister?" Harry countered.

Fred blinked before frowning up at him, "Go watch her."

Harry laughed and nodded, heading back up as Hermione lit her wand. "Be careful of the creek, although I think it's frozen over well enough."

"Alright," Hermione nodded, moving with Fred through the cluster of woods to find the amount of logs that the previous owner had left for the fire.

"George?" Fred called out into the darkness, snowflakes falling fast and sparkling where Hermione's light touched them.

"I found the logs!" he called back, "Careful for the creek though, I saw cracks when I looked back!"

"Will do!" Fred answered before turning to Hermione with a grin, nudging her with his elbow, "Having fun yet?"

"No," she muttered, "Fred, we've got _magic_. I can put a flame in a jar and put a lid on it and still have it work. I can put warming charms on things."

"Then why don't you put warming charms on things now?" he asked.

"Because it's too cold, they keep going out," she hummed, frowning when he laughed.

"You've given up your Muggle-ness, Granger," he stated, tugging on a curl, "It's nice to do things the Muggle way, sometimes."

"You didn't grow up the Muggle way," she quipped, "You would have a very different outlook on Muggle life if you'd grown up in or around it."

"Probably," Fred hummed before a loud crunching sound was heard, making him look down and stare down at the crack running through the ice, Hermione gripping his arm as she skated slightly, looking just as panicked as he did. "Shit, shit, shit, oh shi - !"

"Fred? Freddie!" George called back as Fred breathed in shaky gasps of air, up to the top of his chest in cold water that made his brain stop and his lungs crave air. Hermione, who was shorter than Fred, struggled to keep her head up until Fred finally began to think, grabbing her waist and holding her up as much as his weak arms would allow before she was yanked out of the cold water, him following soon after. "Get inside, get inside, go, go, go," George chanted, prodding them in the backs to get them moving, Harry and Ginny looking up and blinking as they chattered and stood dripping in his kitchen.

"Strip, strip, hot shower, now, go," George ordered, plucking Hermione's coat off of her and tossing it on the floor as Ginny peeled off her sweater, Harry skating to the ground floor bathroom to turn the shower on, Fred wrestling with his coat and jumper before he and Hermione were shoved, with all of their remaining clothes on, underneath the steam, making them jump and hiss as they got feeling back into their appendages.

"_Merlin_," George breathed as Ginny leaned against the doorway, Harry's footsteps heard upstairs in his room. "The hell? Can you just – just _not die_? Can that be a thing you can do?"

"Mmyeah," Fred murmured, clutching Hermione and standing directly underneath the stream of hot water. "That was not an adventure."

"Oh God, I didn't know what it was like to not be thinking," Hermione chattered, gripping onto Fred's wet t-shirt as Harry came back in, holding piles of clothes and a towel. He set one pile on the edge of the sink before grabbing Hermione and wrapping her up, moving her to the upstairs bathroom and letting both her and Fred shower and change into the clothes he'd left for them. When Fred stepped out with his wand and his towel working furiously at his hair, Hermione was curled up in front of the fire with a comb, desperately trying to work tangles out of her hair.

"Here, I've got you," Fred said as he sat down behind her, taking the comb from her and combing through her hair.

"Well, now that those two have scared us enough, let's listen to some Quidditch," George sighed, turning on the radio as Harry came back once again, throwing a wad of something at them.

"What are – socks?" Hermione blinked, as it was a wad of several different pairs of socks folded together.

"Are we free elves, Harry?" Fred grinned, chuckling when Hermione dully reached up to smack his shoulder.

"I figured you might want extra warmth, your clothes are dry but they're cold," Harry shrugged as he flopped onto the couch next to Ginny.

Hermione unfolded them, moving to set two pairs on her feet before handing them to Fred, who set one pair on his feet and one pair on his hands before going back to combing her hair.

"Freddie, you seem confused," Ginny commented once a commercial came on, "Socks go on your feet."

"What?" he blinked back as Hermione twisted and blinked at his hands. "Why did nobody tell me?"

"They wanted to see you be an idiot," George smiled as he settled into an armchair. "The equivalent of seeing me be an idiot."

"Blasphemy," Fred pursed his lips as he tugged off the socks, flinging one at George, "Weasley twins are perfect."

"Exactly," George nodded as Hermione snorted.

"Oy, you got a problem, Granger?" Fred grinned as she turned to face him, grabbing the comb from his hands and combing the front of her hair before drying it, making her sigh.

"Oh, nothing," she smirked back as she vanished the comb, "Nothing at all."

"That doesn't sound like nothing," Fred grinned mischievously back, grabbing her hands and intertwining his fingers with hers.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at his actions as Ginny squinted between the two, Harry and George glancing between each other. "Well, it's very doubtful that anybody's perfect, for one thing. And it's very doubtful that there are a set of two people who are perfect."

"Oho, so you're _doubting_ us?" Fred asked, pressing his feet into her stomach and making her blink.

She frowned and shifted away a little, but Fred gripped tighter onto her hands.

"Fred, get your feet off of Hermione, that's rude," Ginny admonished.

"Sorry, can't hear you," he sang back before he tugged her sharply, making her abdomen push against his feet before he rocked onto his back, dragging her up and into the air up above him as he laughed back at her surprised face. "I'm too busy freaking Hermione out."

"Well, this was unexpected," Hermione gave a shaky laugh as George snorted, "I would quite like to be put down now, though."

"Hmm…nah," Fred hummed, "Think of it as a circus act."

"Think of it as pressing into my ribcage," she smiled, making him blink before settling her down gently, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her to his chest.

"I'm sorry, Shower Buddy," he stated before she gave a very loud snort, making him laugh loudly back at her.

"Do _not_ call me that in public!" she shouted, wiggling in his arms, "I mean it, Fred Weasley, if my mother hears about _any part_ of this, I am dead! And then I'll come back and haunt you to death!"

George grinned over at Harry, who shrugged back as Ginny gaped between the two.

* * *

><p><strong>That was a meh chapter and I'm sorry but I just…don't have much. *pouts*<strong>


End file.
